


Cap In Hand

by lurker85



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Family Drama, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Growing Up, Independence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:50:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3319718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lurker85/pseuds/lurker85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very old k-meme fill.  </p><p>"Without any inhibitions of any kind I make it quite clear that Australia looks to America, free of any pangs as to our traditional links or kinship with the United Kingdom."</p><p>The prompter wanted a story about how Australia's alliances shifted away from England to America during WWII. It was supposed to be about all three of them, but the family dynamic got away from me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cap In Hand

Japan is looking south, and it's making Australia twitchy.  
  
England says he shouldn't worry about it, that Japan is mostly concerned with China and that an invasion is unlikely. (Mind you, he'd said the first World War would be over by Christmas and the Dardenelles would fall quickly.) Australia's not buying it. Part of it might be his old fear of his northern neighbours - they've got so many people, after all, and he has so few - but there's something in the way Japan holds himself, the look in his eyes, that says _this is not enough, I want more_.  
  
It's dawning on him now that relying on England to defend him may not have been the brightest of ideas. The old man is so far away, after all, and has his hands full with Germany. And Australia knows full well he has never been the favourite son.

His father uses him for desert warfare, as Australia knew he would. At least this time around he gets to command his own men. For England, he chases Italy out of North Africa. For England, he holds Tobruk for eight months instead of two - and grins at the look on Germany's face when Ali Baba Morshead and his forty thousand thieves break Rommel's winning streak. (Poor desert rats his arse!)  
  
The old man is pleased and says "Well done," and those two words are worth more to Australia than a thousand medals. Praise doesn't stop him from worrying, though. France has surrendered Indochina to Japan, and still Japan is hungry. America has stopped selling oil to him, refusing to fuel his conquest of Asia, but Australia knows in his gut Japan won't let that stop him, will seek out more, and he'll look in the Dutch East Indies, just over Australia's horizon.  
  
He turns to England and says "Let me go. Japan's heading south, and I'm needed at home."  
  
England refuses. France has fallen, Russia is stalling, and America dithers; he has no allies now, save his children.  
  
Australia can't abandon his old man when he's in a fix like this. He bites his tongue and bides his time.

*

Come December, Japan attacks, as Australia suspected he would. All at once, Kiku is on the move, bombing Hawai'i and tearing through Thailand and Malaya like their defences were made of paper.  
  
England's ships are sunk, his planes destroyed, his army forced into a fighting retreat, and when Australia sees the flag of the Rising Sun over Singapore, he knows he has no other choice.  
  
He hates doing this. It's one thing to ask Arthur to defend him - he's family and Australia's already bled for him anyway. To go hat in hand to a brother he barely knows and beg for charity? That's something else.  
  
He does it anyway, because he may have his pride but he's also not stupid, and Japan is sweeping south like the tsunami he named.

*

America grins at him and laughs, claps him on the back. "Hey, don't panic, you'll be fine. I'm the hero, remember? I'll take care of Japan for you."  
  
As if Australia didn't already feel like a beggar. "Look, I don't want a hero," he says, "I don't want to be rescued. I can fight - I _want_ to fight the Japs, but I just can't do it on my own. I need a mate who'll watch my back, Al, not a knight in shining armour."  
  
America looks confused - apparently Australia may as well have been speaking Dutch - but he's laughing again anyway like it doesn't matter. "Well, whatever. England's going to be pretty mad, though, you know how he is about his colonies. Do you want me to tell him? He's always yelling at me for something or other anyway."  
  
Australia shakes his head. "No, mate," he says. "I'll give him the news m'self. I owe him that much."

*

England's as furious as Australia expected him to be, all previous praises forgotten.

"You went to _America_!"

"What other choice did I have? Germany's got you all tied up, France and the Netherlands have had their arses kicked, and he's the only other power with a stake in the Pacific. Japan may be a distant problem for you, but it's my neighbourhood he's tearing up and I'm not gunna sit and wait for him to have me surrounded, that's for sure."

" _You are not the only one with an army sitting on his doorstep_ ," England snarls at him. "May I remind you that you have duties to the Empire? Duties that you cannot simply run away from because there's a bully in the neighbourhood and you got _scared_? Just because America has finally turned up doesn't mean this war is over. You are still required in North Africa!"

"Do you _want_ to lose another ally? My troops'll do you a fat fucking lot of good if Japan fucking invades and cuts off all reinforcements!"

"Japan will _not_ invade, he hasn't the resources!"

"With all bloody due respect, he ain't heading south for a tea party! D'you think he's just gonna sit in the Indies and let us harass him from Darwin? Even if he doesn't invade, he'd be mad not to blockade us, and if you think I'm gunna let him cut me off from Zea you're even more barmy than I thought!"

"Believe it or not, boy, the world does not revolve around you and your sibling! Have you any idea what Germany is doing to France? To Poland? What he'll do to me if he gets his way? How _dare_ you turn your back on your Empire at a time like this!"

"Do you want me to die for you, is that it? Is that what it takes to prove loyalty? I fought for you, old man! How many wars that had bugger all to do with me 'cept you were in 'em? And the one time I need you, the _one_ time, not only can't you help me but you won't even let me help myself."

England looks like he's been punched in the gut, but Australia's too angry, can't stop 'till he's let it all out. "Well, I'm done with you _letting_ me do things. I could slide into the ocean tomorrow and you'd carry on fine, but the reverse ain't true, is it? And if you think I'm gunna shut up like a good boy and let you use me up to save yourself, you're dreaming."

He hadn't meant to strike that nerve; that wound in the trust between them that had never quite healed. England had only tried the once to treat him like cannon fodder; now Australia doesn't talk about it and England feels quietly guilty, and that's as close to apologies and forgiveness as they ever get in this family. But he can see in England's eyes that's what he's done, anyway; and hear it in the hoarseness of England's voice as he says "No, that's not...that was never..."

Australia can't stop his voice from cracking a bit, and now his shouting turns to something like pleading. "I know. I know, okay? But you've got America and Russia to help you now, and you don't need me, not like you think. And I can't go relying on you for everything any more. Germany and Japan, they've proved that between them, haven't they? I've got to stand on me own feet, don't you see? And part o'that is making me own friends, and fighting me own battles, and trading on me own word, not yours." He pauses. "You're still me old man, you know? But you can't afford to look after me anymore, and I can't hang on to your apron strings forever - I need to start looking out for m'self, don't you see?"

There is a long, unsettling silence, and Australia can't help but try - "Don't you see, Dad?"

England's eyes are shadowed, and Australia cannot tell what he is thinking, for he has never seen that expression before.

"Yes, I see. I suppose it was inevitable," his father murmurs, and it feels like both a victory and a loss.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I fudged the timelines a bit on this one - I think Russia entered the war properly before Japan became a serious threat to Australia, but why let historical accuracy stand in the way of a good story?
> 
> Lieutenant General Leslie James Morshead (known as Ming the Merciless to his troops) was in charge of Australian troops during most of the North African campaign, most notably the Seige of Tobruk and the Second Battle of El Alamein. (I make it sound like Australia does it alone in the story, but there were plenty of New Zealand, Indian, and British troops there as well.) Axis propaganda called him 'Ali Baba Morshead and his forty thousand thieves' because Morshead ordered his troops to nick whatever supplies they could off the enemy, and labelled the Australian troops in Tobruk "poor desert rats". The Australians adopted the moniker with pride, calling themselves 'the Rats of Tobruk' and even today the RSL club at Sydney's North Bondi is known as 'the Rathouse'.
> 
> Morshead was only supposed to hold Tobruk against Rommel for eight weeks. He held it for eight months, against a man whose progess had been unstoppable in North Africa before then. When British propaganda blared "Tobruk can take it!" Morshead commented: "We're not here to take it, we're here to give it."


End file.
